Goonies: Our Last Adventure?
by The Madman From The Bronx
Summary: It's 2 years after the hunt for One-Eyed Willy's treasure, and over a year since the second save of Astoria. Have the goonies moved on? Are they too old for any more adventures? SEQUEL to Goonies: A Different Dilemma.
1. Not The End

Heya guys! About 7 months ago, (I know, shame on me) I promised a sequel to Goonies: A Different Dilemma, which you might wanna read first if you haven't already so this one won't be really confusing. This story is in the POV of Lea, my OC- Mouth's twin sister. This takes place one year after A Different Dilemma, and over 2 years after the original Goonies adventure. So Mouth, Data, Chunk, Mikey, and Lea are around 15, Stef and Andy are 16, and Brand is... 18? I dunno... lol. But he won't really be in this story much, anyhoo.

So, R and R, and enjoy!

BTW I still haven't thought of a good idea for an adventure yet, so I'm totally open to anyone who has ideas!

* * *

Biology was the one class that we all agreed was boring. Every day for me was a huge snooze-fest. Mikey, tried to be nice and say that it was 'mildly enlightening.' In what, the situation of the re Statue of David? Hardly. He at least tried to pay attention. HUGE waste of time for the rest of us. Mouth was the class clown, Data was a snoozer like me, and Chunk smuggled books from culinary class into the classroom and was always preoccupied with them. Stef was a sophomore and lucky her, she already did her term last year.

Something poked my arm. Groggily, I raised my head. A paper airplane crash-landed onto my desk. Puzzled, I picked it up.

'_Lea – ice cream today? 4 o'clock_

_Mikey.'_

Drumming my fingers against the desk with one hand, I wrote a hasty reply on the note with the other hand.

'_Does Mouth know about it?'_

And quickly making sure the teacher was facing the board, I hurled the note over to Mikey's desk on the other side of the room. I had become quite an expert at this.

Mikey glanced at the note. Moments later, it was back on my desk.

'_Mouth has a date today.'_

_Ugh,_ I thought, disgusted. _'Screw him.'_ I wrote quickly.

Mouth had a girlfriend. Total ditz, total goody-goody, total BORE! Her name… I think it was Eli, but I preferred just to forget. I hated her. Mouth was agonizingly corny around her, and I just had to wonder, where had my brother gone?

'_What about the others?'_

I again tossed the paper over to the other side of the room, and received the note back with the following message:

'_Data has the robotics club competition after school today. I don't know about Chunk yet.'_

Oh yeah… sometimes I forgot that Chunk, Data, and Mouth were each in a different biology class. Very easy thing to do.

The paper sailed back and forth, and the remaining conversation went something like this:

'_I'm in.'_

'_Great.'_

'_So… we're having a get-together with only part of the group? That's unofficial, you know.'_

'_I've been lonely.'_

'_I'll give you my walkman to keep you company. Of course, you'll have to buy me another one.'_

'_Gee thanks.'_ (I could picture Mikey rolling his eyes.)

'_Seriously, I know what you mean. Mouth's girlfriend? One word- ugh!'_ (a word I had used already, and many times in the past)

'_Hey, she's nice.'_

'_But you don't like her either!'_

'_She's okay.'_

'_Not when she's within 10 feet of Mouth, she isn't. Mouth wouldn't even sneak in to see Lost Boys with me yesterday! He had BETTER things to do. It was a really good movie, by the way. Good theme music, too. I think I'm going to buy the audio cassette for my walkman.'_

'_I bet it was. Too bad they aren't making any good pirate movies anymore.'_

'_Yeah. The last good pirate novel I read was written 300 years ago.'_

'_Nice.'_

'_Do you by any chance have a deck of cards? I want to play.'_

'_Lea… we're on opposite sides of the room.'_

'_We're starting that new science project today. We can play during the class time she gives us.'_

'_Um, about that… I already have a partner. Sorry.'_

'_You already chose a partner without telling me? Turd. So who is he?'_ (I drew a pathetic frowny face to show that I was joking)

'_Um… Sarah.'_

'_Sarah's a boy name? I'm confused.'_

'_No! Sarah's a girl!'_

'_Ah.'_

'_It's not like that. We're just friends, and she thought this project was particularly interesting (Riiight) and she asked me if I wanted to work with her.'_

'_Cool. I'll just work with Data, then. Or Chunk, if Mouth's already snatched him up.'_

'_Erm… I think you have to choose partners within the class.'_

'_Oh, right. Forgot they weren't in my block.'_ (AGAIN)

'_Are you mad?'_

'_No. Why the hell would I be mad? GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!'_

'_Still on for ice cream?'_

'_You bet! I'll tell Data to tell Mouth to ask Chunk in US History class. I wish Cooking Class were later in the day now!'_

There was little to speak of for us, the Goonies, anymore. Apparently it was decided that the Goonies was the new name for the town's community service club, because of our deeds, and now we had little disciples following us around everywhere. Sure, we- the original Goonies- still hung, and that relieved me. But we ourselves hadn't had any great adventure for over a year now. I supposed we had to wait for one to get tossed at us. But I didn't think we could wait much longer. 15 was kinda pushing the limits.

Mouth's new girlfriend was antagonizing- at least to me, she was- but I was apparently bringing my own share of annoyance to the family, too. I had this new walkman that I never stopped listening to. Every morning, it was walking down the stairs, seeing people's mouths move and not hearing the words, and 'What?' How I came to receive that walkman… ah, the great things that happen to you in high school. The cool seniors had given it to me (the wimpy freshman loser) out of pity. I'm not kidding. A senior just came up to me (while I was walking through the hall and snapping my fingers randomly) and pulled it out and said, 'Here, take it. Nobody's ever going to offer you one again.' That was all he said, and then he just left, one walkman poorer. I felt as if I would never have to hunt for One-Eyed-Willy's treasure again.

The thing about high school was that the whole school didn't hero-worship us. The freshman did, and a few of the sophomore, even. Some people in the junior and senior classes respected us, and all of the freshmore and sophomore did. It was a really nice change.

The bell rang, and I was shoved out into the hallway by the current of students leaving the classroom. My next class was Integrated Language Arts Class: Freshman and Sophomore, which I shared with Data and Stef. I walked over to room 302 and waited for Stef to come out so I could walk with her to class like we did every day.

So remember: REVIEW! And send some ideas if you like. If I use anyone's, (which can't be guaranteed because one idea may inspire me to do something way different, lol) I will put your name in the summary, as well as the beginning of every one of the chapters.


	2. Much Ado About What?

Uh... hi.

*Dodges angry flurry of papers, metal objects, and out-of-season fruits

I'm... sorry?

If that even _begins_ to cover it.

Anyway, uh... moving on...

Yep, I haven't updated this in four years. I'm no longer the age of the characters, which makes it sort of hard to identify with them-especially with Lea, since I had to start from scratch with her. Also, my writing style is way different, as in bunches more mature. I'll try to keep this and other chapters pretty consistent with how I wrote five years ago and not so-eh-Victor Hugo-esque? (Go out and read _Les Miserables_ if you can-wonderful writing, wonderful story, and everything. I must say I've written for the fandom in this story's absence... *Dodges more items) For one thing, I haven't written in first person in years (provided I've got a choice-some of my English assignments have had to be done in first), so writing that way is still a bit weird for me. I've read and reread my older stories to ensure there's a match. Mostly the chapters will just be longer (yay!) because that became a habit. However, four years don't just go away, and there are going to be changes, however subtle I've tried to make them, and hopefully they are for the better.

Life got in the way as it has a nasty habit of doing.

Big thanks goes out to all of you who reviewed this story and PM-ed me in passing years, especially Kiri-Anne3x, who has helped me with finding the inspiration to continue this after growing hopelessly into ripe old age. (Guess what? I finally found a plot! You'll find it in this chapter.)

* * *

Mikey's house was beginning to get really boring, especially on a Saturday morning with rain pattering at the window.

"What've you got there, Data?" I looked over his shoulder—_Technology Review_. Why was I not surprised?

"Here." Mikey tossed me a spare copy of _Film Review_.

Beaming, I snuggled down into the couch. There was nothing more amusing than a critic gone rabid on some unsuspecting movie, however sadistic that sounded. "Got any _Modern Screen_ for later?"

If there was a response, I didn't hear it. When somebody laid into _Dirty Dancing_, I didn't listen, and nor did I mind it—not one bit.

"Mouth, I might have to leave soon," said Eli quietly over a game of cards, eyes shifting about the room. "I'll take two."

"All right, but I'll probably stay." Mouth dealt her a pair. "Dealer takes one. Why do you have to leave?"

"Homework," said Eli. "I'm ridiculously behind."

"You wouldn't mind helping me with it, would you?"

"Of course not." Eli smiled. "Just tell me later on."

"Mikey, do you have pliers?" Data asked his friend.

"What do you need pliers for?" asked Mikey. "Please felicitate. Uh, emancipate?"

"Elucidate," I murmured.

'Thank you,' he mouthed to me.

Data hadn't picked up on any of it. "I'm going to build this! Here, look." He showed Mikey the magazine.

"No, no, no. Data, you promised."

"Just this once!"

"That's what you said last time, and the time before… no listen, Data, my Mom's really going to kill me this time."

"Please?"

Mikey contemplated this for a second. As long as nothing short-circuited, he'd probably survive until dinnertime.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to watch you. No explosions."

"No—no explosions this time. I promise!" Data beamed.

Mikey sighed. "Why do I think I'm going to regret this?" He asked himself. "Data, why do you always have to build something so am—ambitious?"

"Dream big," Data said simply. "Dream big, and problems small."

"Never heard that one, Data," said Mouth. "Which commercial?"

"I made it up!" Data beamed proudly.

"Oh, come on," said Mikey.

"You did _not_," Mouth chimed in.

"I did! I did make it up!" Data complained. "Here. Come look at what I'm building."

Mouth just rolled his eyes and dealt again, with a hint of a smirk on his face.

Just when we'd all settled into our routine, Chunk came in with tears streaming down his face.

"Chunk, what happened? You're late."

"What's wrong?"

"It's Sloth, guys! He's gone! Missing! Out somewhere that I don't know about!" Chunk sniffed.

I closed my magazine and dropped it on the floor. Even though I hadn't met Sloth until after the Cohens adopted him, I knew exactly whom he was talking about, and I knew it exactly when anybody else did.

"_Gone_ gone, or shopping for groceries?" asked Mouth.

"No! He was dragged off!" said Chunk.

"_What_? Who would do this?" exclaimed Stef.

"How do you know?" I asked Chunk.

"Scuff marks on the floor?" asked Mikey. He'd seen more detective shows than any of us could count.

Chunk, whose crying had died down, burst into another round of sobs.

"No evidence," Data murmured.

"Genius insight, double o-negative," said Mouth.

"Hey!" I barked. "Leave him alone. He's right."

"Chunk, are you _sure_ he was dragged off?" Mikey asked.

"He would never leave the house without telling us, and he hasn't come back! You guys don't believe me, do you?"

Chunk lied about many things. But Sloth was too precious to him. Anybody could see how torn he was.

"Yeah, Chunk, we do," I sighed. "It's just that the police won't."

"We'll have to take it on ourselves," said Stef.

"How will we do that?" Eli spoke up for the first time that evening.

Everybody looked to her in surprise.

"We don't have the resources to find him," she continued calmly. "We're not professionals."

Silence.

"Yeah, well, it's worth a shot," Mikey muttered, looking down at his feet.

"Damn straight it is," agreed Mouth, looking apologetically at Eli.

"Besides, we do know some of the circumstances in Sloth's value to other people since we rescued him," added Stef.

Mikey whistled. He recognized being outdone when it came to sleuthing habits.

"Where'd you get that, Steinbrenner? Forensics in the science lab?"

"I actually pay attention in class, Mouth," Stef said.

"That's nice to know, in case, you know, we're ever going to write a paper about the topic," said Mouth.

"I don't know, Mouth. You don't need to write a term paper to know the difference between Martin Sheen and John Kennedy." I retorted.

Stef and I shared grins as everybody laughed.

"Shut up, Lea," Mouth shot back. "This is the most dynamic to happen since One Eyed-Willie's treasure was found! It's an outrage!"

I rolled my eyes, but secretly I was jealous of my brother for being a part of _that_ grand adventure. Bronchitis had kept me in bed and barely alive that year. Dad told me that nobody had died of that since medicine was considered to be witch potion. I still think I was going for a record.

"It's that weak immune system of yours, kiddo," said my brother. "You gotta stop eating Domino's."

"I like their pizza!" I sniffed. "Besides, it's not like I'm fat."

"Debatable."

I tackled Mouth and pinned him to the carpet in Mikey's house and smiled smugly up at Eli, watching with a horrified expression on her face.

"Point proven," Mouth struggled to get up.

I scoffed and stood. "That is because you're weak, my friend. You should work out more so you can be strong like Brand."

"Ooo! Somebody's got a crush on _Brand_!"

"Shut up, Mouth. You don't know anything about that."

Mouth shot a pointed glance at his girlfriend. "I beg to differ," he said dryly.

I screamed in frustration and stormed from the room.

"What a creep," said Mouth.

"Takes one to know one," Stef shot back.

"Well, that explains why you two are such good friends, then!" retorted Mouth.

"It also explains why you're her brother!"

Mouth had nothing up his sleeve except to glare at Stef and then look endearingly at his girlfriend. "Come on, Eli," he said. "Let's go somewhere else."

Stef walked past Mikey, Chunk, and Data into the kitchen.

"What was that?" Stef asked. "Your time of the month?"

"I. Am. So. Sick. Of. Mouth." I spat.

"Well, today's work is done. We can't decide what to do if _all_ of the Goonies aren't here."

"Oh, he's sold us out long before that," I said. "My own flesh and blood, too!"

"_Do_ you like Brand?"

"Not even a little! Why is it that—" I sighed. "I'm sorry about yelling, Stef, but I so obviously _don't_ that it's a bit of a sore point. I don't feel like doing this anymore. I'm going home."

Stomping past the still-silent three, I closed the door firmly and walked back the block to my and Mouth's house. Opening the door, I was so sure to be alone that I leapt out of my skin to see Mouth and Eli were cozy on the couch with a movie. They must have had a similar idea. I made a face at Mouth before crawling up to my room and slamming the door. Sure, it wasn't any different than any other fights we had as siblings; it wasn't even the most venomous one by far. Still, now that there was a variable in the experiment that was our lives—Eli—it was easy to find a source of blame. She was not at all interesting and certainly no match for my brother. Stef filled that slot perfectly, but apparently that didn't matter to him—not anymore.

As soon as I heard the back door slam (apparently Mouth had gotten bored), I slinked downstairs and turned on the television, flipping through the stations until I got the tail end of a _Cosby Show _episode and after that _Hill Street Blues_.

"Nope," I muttered to my science equations. "Sorry. The fun has won out."

The doorbell rang, and I swung my legs over the couch to get it.

"Hi," said a tentative Mikey. "Thought I'd drop by and check up on you."

"Come in," I said. "I'm not doing anything, and Mouth's not back yet. Sorry about my little spat with him this afternoon," I opened the door wider.

Mikey noticed that the television was on. "What are you watching?"

"_Hill Street Blues_," I said. "Want me to change it?"

"No." Mikey sat next to me on the couch.

"You know what show I miss?"

"_I Ran All The Way Home?"_

"No," I laughed, remembering. "Well, yes—but _Mork & Mindy_ was what I was referring to, actually. That was a funny one. After that, Robin Williams sort of fell off the face of the Earth. I mean, have you heard about anything with him in it?"

"No," said Mikey.

"He's got loads of potential," I said. "I really hope he breaks into movies, or even back in TV, provided it's quality like _Mork & Mindy_ was. Oh, and I never got to thank you for the ice cream."

"No problem," Mikey shrugged. "Too bad Data and Chunk couldn't come."

"Yeah, too bad." I smirked, remembering a time when Chunk got us thrown out for spilling his ice cream right after he left the register and then demanding a refund. Whatever I felt about his absence was far from remorse. "So, uh… what happened after I left?"

"Nothing. After you and Mouth left, there was nobody to argue with, and none of the usual bandage."

"_Badinage_?" I couldn't help but laugh. We all thought he'd gotten over his word problems. "Where'd you even pick that one up?"

"Somewhere. You?"

"One of my pirate novels, probably."

"Is there something going on between you and Robert Louis Stevenson that the rest of us should know about?"

"Nothing that time won't erase." Rolling my eyes, I flipped through the channels once _Hill Street Blues_ stopped. "How about the _Hardy Boys_? I _insist_ that the novels are better, but ah well."

"Is it on?"

Wordlessly, I gesticulated toward the television screen.

"Okay, then."

"How's your dad doing with the mayoral slot? He's only got one year left, right?"

"Yeah. Apparently he's doing a good enough job that his dissenters can only criticize his background and not his policies."

"What, just because he doesn't have a political degree?" I scoffed. "Your dad's a curator, Mikey, and that's the best prerequisite for local politics there is. Half of politics is knowing which parts of history were mistakes and not to repeat them."

"Thanks, Lea."

However, my jaw had dropped as I looked at the screen. There was a trailer for _Little Nikita_ on, and my, weren't my eyes chock full of candy!

"What are you looking at?" Mikey was puzzled.

"Sidney. Poitier… River ain't too bad, either." I muttered before presently clearing my throat. "Anyway, what about Sloth? When did Chunk say he was taken?"

"It's been all day at this point," said Mikey.

"That's _really_ bad." I bit my lip. "The Fratellis are locked up, though, with about 700 years between them. Who could it be?"

"I have no idea."

"I'm guessing that whoever wants him doesn't want to murder him. Sloth's too sweet for anyone to want revenge for anything. Worst case scenario is ransom, so I think I can safely say that it can wait until morning."

"Thanks."

"Huh?" I looked at him.

"For being optimistic."

Mouth burst in a few moments later, thankfully unaccompanied.

"Ah, hello Mikey. Dealing with my hormonal, crazy sister?"

"Mouth, _what_ are you talking about?" I smirked—nothing better than picking a trap and ensnaring all others in proximity.

"Care to explain your behavior? If I have to tear you away from another Sidney Poitier poster, I swear…"

"It's a novel idea, Mouth, known as paying attention in class," I said grimly. "Health class, as a matter of fact. Don't pretend you don't understand."

Silence.

Mouth would've laughed if he weren't the target. He just made a face. Surprisingly, though, Mikey didn't laugh, either.

I waited around for what seemed like hours, then stalked up to my room and slammed the door.

"Point proven," Mouth grabbed something to munch on. "Watch the mood swings, my friend."


	3. Progress At Last

So it's the tail end of spring break, and I figured I owed you guys a nice, juicy update. This five-years-delay is really a blessing in disguise because you're getting a better story than you would've gotten then. I just hope it's five years worth of quality. I know Lea's sort of a bitch right now, but rest assured that she will not stay this way—it's part of her development as a teen. After all, her name's not "Mary Sue," is it? :P

* * *

"Where'd you last see Sloth?" Stef asked a still-blubbering Chunk.

It was the next day, and we'd returned to the scene of the crime.

"In our house! I've already told you a million times."

"She means which room, dummy," said Brand, who had shown up with little explanation. No matter how gruff he was on the exterior, he cared about Sloth about as much as everybody else. Sloth had saved him, too.

"Oh, uh… I don't remember."

"Well, then, think about it. It's not like we're short on time," said Mikey, taking a breath from his inhaler. "Not yet."

Sloth was kidnapped, and we _weren't_ short on time. That was a shocker.

Stef left the room to look at other parts of the house.

"This could really get dangerous." Andy twirled a piece of her hair nervously.

"Depending on who's after him," Mikey added.

I rolled my eyes. Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Brand took Andy aside for a couple of minutes and talked to her in an undertone.

"Data? What are you holding?"

"Double o-seven!" Data pulled out one of Chunk's VHS's. "It's double o-seven, guys!"

"You can borrow it," said Chunk dispassionately.

We didn't see Data for the rest of the day. I couldn't blame him, not with seven people in a too-small house.

It didn't end there.

A knock sounded at Chunk's front door, followed by footsteps. "You should really keep your door locked. There could be a kidnapper on the loose."

"Mouth," we groaned simultaneously.

"What? I'm fashionably late." He protested. Without fail, he had been 'fashionably late' to all of our meetings lately, and we knew the reason.

I looked at Eli before staring sideways. What was _she_ doing here?

"Well, give us a hand," said Mikey.

"One hand, or two?" I raised my eyebrows.

Mikey said nothing as he turned back to Chunk, and Mouth rolled his eyes.

I glared at him so he knew just how dead he was if he opened his fat trap. No, I didn't enjoy acting like a psycho, irrational, menstruating teenage girl, but everybody knew I had a temper by now. It was too late for disclaimers.

"What should I do?" whispered Eli to Mouth.

"Go over there and talk to Chunk, maybe." Mouth kissed her cheek and pointed to where Chunk was in the process of lamenting over yet another broken object—a red antique vase, it appeared.

"Get over here, loverboy, and help us yourself," Stef rolled her eyes. "Chunk doesn't remember breaking this."

"No surprise there." Mouth smirked.

"My folks are going to kill me," muttered Chunk. "I'll have to live on matzo meal for a week."

"Come on, Chunk. _You_ love matzo meal."

"No," said Chunk. "I love things made from matzo meal—matzo balls, latkes, you name it. Matzo meal alone is… is…" he shuddered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I continued. "I've tried some matzo crackers, and they're pretty good."

Chunk's eyes got wider and wider as he stared at me until he ran out of the room in tears.

Eli knelt down where Chunk had been and started examining the broken vase.

Meanwhile, Stef came back. From the look on her face, nothing happened. "I couldn't find anything, guys. There aren't any scuff marks or anything to suggest that Sloth was dragged off."

"Maybe he was lured out?" I suggested.

"No! Sloth never left the house." Chunk yelled from the other room.

"Scratch that, then," I huffed, sitting down on Chunk's couch.

"Taking a break?" Mikey asked. Fantastic—I _had_ to learn to look before I leapt.

"Not anymore." I sprang up and walked past Eli. "Stef!" I shouted. "What do we do now?"

Stef wiped her brow tiredly. "I don't know, Lea, but I want to ask you a question anyway."

"Yeah?"

"Did something happen last night?"

"Nope," I said quickly. "I just didn't get a lot of sleep."

"Why?"

"Too much television."

"Mouth told me a different story."

"Mouth still talks to you?" I winced immediately after speaking the words. _That_ was an asshole thing to say. "Sorry," I added. "He doesn't talk to any of the rest of us anymore. It's a bit of a shocker."

"Relax." Stef rolled her eyes. "I know what you meant."

"Who would do this?" I asked, changing the subject.

"The Fratellis are locked up," she added.

"There has to be somebody else, then. Either that, or the Fratellis smuggled some money out of jail to pay someone off for taking Sloth."

"It's a possibility."

Eli's eyes lighted up and she walked over to Mouth and whispered in his ear.

I wanted to call out 'No time for loving,' but my mouth had done enough of a workout for today, and not a good one.

"Guys, Eli found something," said Mouth.

"_What_ did she find?" I asked.

Eli pushed herself in front of Mouth. "Chunk says that he didn't break that vase, and I don't think he did. I found this caught on one of the torn pieces." She held up a piece of polyester fabric.

Chunk released a triumphant yell, causing the rest of us to jump. "See, guys? I _told_ you I didn't!"

"He must have knocked it over before being taken away," said Mikey. "He probably left it as a clue!"

"Then it's true," I said grimly, forgetting to be pissed at him. "He _was_ taken."

"You told me you believed me!" Chunk protested.

"Stop it, Chunk," I snapped. "I wanted him to walk back through that door of his own volition just as much as you did. You think any of us _wanted_ to believe he was kidnapped?"

"Maybe we should look again," suggested Stef.

"Maybe we should go get help," said Brand, who had reappeared with Andy.

"Yeah? From who?" Mouth shot back.

"From _whom_." I corrected.

Mouth glared at me.

"We need _somebody_ else," said Andy. "This adventure might be beyond us."

"Come on, Andy," Stef said. "Are you a Goonie or not?"

She pouted and looked at Brand, who looked about as happy to be with us as she did. The only reason that they had come back was because of the possibility that Sloth was in danger. We knew it, and they knew we knew it.

"Eli, you've got a good eye. Come with me." Stef snatched Eli from Mouth's arm and took her out to the front yard.

"Mouth, whatd'ya got?" I walked over to my brother, who had just righted another upturned item and had picked something up.

"Here." He handed me a pack of matches.

"How is this going to help us?" I asked, staring at it. "It's nice evidence, but it'll take a detective to find out how it's relevant." I looked back up. "Mouth. Get your girlfriend in here."

"Get her yourself," said Mouth.

"No. You do it!"

"Why?"

"You know her better than I do!"

"I've got a feeling that if I call her in for something like that, she'll be disappointed."

Mikey sighed and pushed open the screen door. "Eli? They want you in here."

I felt bad at the fact that everything Mikey said rubbed me the wrong way, but the aforementioned irritation overpowered the guilt. At least now I was managing to bite my tongue in most instances.

Eli flipped a tuft of auburn hair over her shoulder as she strolled in despite Stef's protests, looking almost excited to be here now that she was off Mouth's arm and doing her own work.

"Hey. We got something." I walked away and grabbed a Snickers bar from Chunk's pantry. "Make anything of it?" I called to Mouth.

"No," said Eli.

"Nice job anyway."

"Thanks." She grinned.

"Chunk?" I called. "Where are you?"

Chunk was in the kitchen before I could count to three.

I ran a hand through my hair. Great. I was scaring people.

"Wait!" Eli cried, though it was still so soft I barely heard her. "Mouth, look at this!"

I walked over because no Devereaux was ever able to mind her own business. Eli pointed to the logo.

"There's a manufacturing date and location on these. I just can't make them out."

"Chunk. Have you got a magnifying glass?"

Chunk dashed off as quickly as he was here, nearly running into Mikey on the way out.

"OK, so we've got matches and polyester. Wait." I snapped my fingers and began to pace—it sucked that they were going to catch me monologuing, but too late. "Didn't the Fratellis wear polyester?"

"They're all in jail, Lea. Get a brain."

I huffed at my brother.

"Sometimes they get other people to do their bidding, you know, like calling out hits," Mikey said, looking at me. "I see it all the time on TV."

I looked down but bit my lip, even though—where did he get off butting in, even when it helped my case? _Especially_ when it helped my case? Everybody else seemed to know to give as good as they got from me, and most of what they got from me wasn't great.

"Nothing outside. Polyester suits, likely the perpetrator smokes cigars," Stef summarized, walking in. "This isn't any cat burglar, guys. Sloth did something to piss off some higher-ups."

"Or we did," said a voice from the entrance.

We turned.

Andy and Brad had snuck in without anybody's noticing as they were so good at doing lately, and now both stood in the doorframe of the kitchen.

"What do you mean?" Stef walked over to Andy.

"Well, think about it. Probably the most exciting thing in Sloth's life was finding that treasure—"

"Most exciting thing in mine, too," Mouth muttered.

"Amen," I put in.

"—and that was a lot of money. Somebody wants to know where it is."

"But why Sloth? Why not any of us?" Mikey asked, also stepping forward.

"Because the other Fratellis are locked away," Eli said from her corner. "It's not like they can call Missing Persons on his behalf."

I couldn't help but shoot her an admiring glance. I had to listen to these ragamuffins tell the tale for three years now and still didn't understand everything, but Eli seemed to have no trouble putting it together in a jiffy.

"Then they obviously didn't know we adopted him," Chunk said glumly. "Here's the magnifying glass."

Eli took it with a whispered thanks, and the rest of us crowded around her as she held it over the matchbox.

"I—I can't make it out," Eli said, crestfallen. "The paper's torn."

Andy and Brand began talking among themselves again as they walked out of the room, apparently bored after the strike-out—no pun intended.

"Somebody struck a match across it, probably," Stef said.

Mouth glared. "Do you have to be so competent all the time?"

"Lay off," I said.

Stef had started to talk at about the same time, and now she looked pointedly at me.

I shut up.

"Forgot what I was going to say, but it was probably good." Stef stomped out of the kitchen.

"Wait a minute. Gimme those." Mouth snatched the matches from his unassuming girlfriend. "Three Stars. These are _really_ nice."

"Too nice for Astoria," Mikey mused.

"They don't sell those here," Chunk provided. "I know for sure. For Hanukkah, we've tried every kind of matches under the sun. There are the ones too short and they burn Mom's fingers, and we have to order the really nice longer ones. Three Stars was one of the out-of-town brands we tried."

"Where from?" Eli asked.

"Huh?" Chunk looked at her.

"Where did you order those from?"

"Uncle Hiram sends them. From San Fran. He's a bit odd, uses the matches for what Mom calls 'special purposes.'"

I snorted.

Chunk gave me a funny look before continuing. "Anyway, he sends us a bunch of matches."

"San Fran _would_ be the place to buy good matches," I muttered.

"I wonder if there's anyplace closer?" Mikey asked.

"Well, there's a way of finding that out. We can ask at the pharmacies and make some phone calls." Eli said.

"Seriously." I gawked. "Was your father a private eye?"

Eli bit her lip and looked down while Mouth glared at me.

"_What_?" I snapped.

"Let's go to a few of the pharmacies, then." Mikey said quickly.

"But can't we call it in first? It'll be good to have them know what's going on." I turned to him. "I'm sorry, Chunk, that the police won't believe you, but maybe if somebody else makes the call?"

"Eli," Mouth said right away, giving her a little shove and smirking as she stumbled forward.

'Why Eli?' it was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but then I remembered. It wasn't like she was a Goonie or anything, but she knew what the hell she was doing. I would've fought for Stef's right to call if she hadn't disappeared. Besides, she wasn't a huge fan of Astoria's finest. It had something to do with rebellion and cops cracking down too much on innocuous activities.

"Okay, summing things up, we've got the cloth and the matchbook." Mouth said. "Chunk, can you think of anything else right now that'll help us?"

Chunk shook his head and sat on the stool, slumping over on the counter. He looked as tired as the rest of us felt. Mouth pushed Eli into the living room, and I heard him telling her where the telephone was. It was strange to the rest of us, since we knew each other's houses like the backs of our hands.

Drip. Drip.

My head snapped over to the sink. Having a plumber for a dad gave Mouth and me supersonic hearing when it came to things like that, I swear. And after this was all over and done, I was sending Dad over for some tune-ups, free of charge, with a tub of ice cream. Poor Chunk, going through all of this. Nobody loved Sloth like he did.

Mikey pulled out _Modern Screen_ and opened it.

I winced, remembering from yesterday that I had asked to borrow it. Fat chance of that happening now. I mean, I had wanted to square things before I remembered that minor little detail. Right?

When Chunk started snoring, I looked out into the other room. Eli was busy at the phone with Mouth at her side. Stef was still here, leaning against the wall and dozing from the looks of it, unlike Andy and Brand, who had _left_ left. Nobody was coming in. My eyes darted back to Mikey, who seemed unperturbed by what sounded like a logger truck in the kitchen. How could he concentrate? Still, figuring I was safe, I opened my fat mouth with what were probably the best intentions I had in the past two weeks. "Mikey?"

"Yeah?" Mikey didn't look up from the magazine.

I cleared my throat and shuffled my feet. "I wanted to—"

Mouth burst into the room with an ashen-faced Eli in tow and Stef on her other side.

"What is it?" Stef was asking. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"I just spoke with the Chief, and they've got their hands full." Eli began. "Somebody broke into Jake Fratelli's cell and worked him over. He's been transferred to the hospital."


End file.
